Shades of Desire (14 page)

Religious faith, especially when he wasn’t sure what faiths they were talking about, certainly didn’t scream a connection, but he had to consider that Hanes took Lindsay’s cross pendant, not to keep a memento from a victim but because they shared similar religious beliefs. If that was true, than maybe religion had had something to do with how they met or why he’d killed her in the first place.

Picking up the phone again, he dialed the DOJ crime lab. Henry Littlefield answered. “Hey, Henry. It’s Mac McKenzie.”

“Yo, Big Mac. What can I do for you?”

“You can tell me you’ve got the results from the DNA or fingerprint analysis we’ve requested in the Lindsay Monroe case.”

“Work, work, work. It’s all about work with you, man,” Littlefield muttered good-naturedly. Mac took it in good stride. If ever there was someone who embodied a workaholic, Littlefield was it. It didn’t help with the crime lab’s backlog, however, because new requests were made every day, and invariably most of the requests were designated as rushes. First priority was always given to cases currently at trial, however. While the lab did its best, the techs weren’t miracle workers. That’s why Mac wasn’t surprised when Littlefield came back on the line and said, “Sorry. Not yet. Hopefully soon.”

“Right. Thanks. Can you connect me to Tanzina in Tech?”

“Take it easy, Mac.”

“You, too, Littlefield.”

A quick click was followed by, “Ernest Tanzina.”

Mac smiled at the heavily accented voice. Tanzina was Romanian, a good-natured man, devoted father and all-around likable guy. In all the years they’d worked together, Mac couldn’t remember a time when the guy wasn’t smiling. “Hey, Tanzina, it’s Mac.”

“Hey, Mac. How’s it going?”

“Pretty good. But I’m working the Lindsay Monroe case and I was hoping you could do me a favor.”

“Sure thing.”

“You’ve been searching the vic’s hard drive. Using key string search terms for internet predator evidence, right?”

“Standard stuff. Meet. Secret. Love. Trust. Nothing’s hit so far.”

“I want you to run a search including religious terms. God. Church. Mass. That kind of thing.”

“You found something useful, then?”

“Won’t know until you run that search,” Mac drawled.

Tanzina laughed. “I’ll call you back in twenty.”

He actually called back in ten. “Payday.”

Mac sat up. “Tell me what you’ve got.”

“Last September, looks like she started chatting with someone with the screen name BLVR. I can access the dates and times of those chats, and I can tell you they include religious terms. But I can’t access the actual chats themselves. To do that, we’re gonna need a warrant for the company that owns the server she used. If they come up with anything useful and you want to find out BLVR’s IP address, we’re gonna need a warrant to get that, too.”

“Shit. How long is that going to take?”

“You can write up a warrant and get a judge to sign off tomorrow. As far as getting the info from the companies, we’re looking at days. Weeks even.”

“Damn it, that’s too long.”

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Get started on it. In the meantime, I’ll check things out here.”

“Here being where?”

“Plainville.”

“Ah. Small town.”

“Right. Small town. Limited number of churches. Even though her body was found an hour north, in Redding, she attended a farmers’ market here. Maybe she attended church here, too.”

“Good luck, man.”

“Thanks. Stay in touch.”

Mac hung up, then rubbed at his forehead before making yet another call. The owner of Amber House was still “unavailable.” “Tell him I need to talk to him as soon as possible. Special Agent Mac McKenzie with California DOJ.” He repeated his phone number and hung up.

Shit, a few phone calls had resulted in yet another long list of tasks. He needed to look into whether Alex Hanes had a brother or not, one who might know whether he’d attended church. He needed to pinpoint churches in both Redding and Plainville and see whether anyone at those churches had ever seen Lindsay or Alex Hanes. And he still needed to interview Melissa Callahan.

Which to do first? In the end, it was an easy decision.

Natalie knew Melissa. Melissa had left her waiting so that a murderer was able to get to her. That murderer had killed Lindsay. Lindsay had befriended someone online, someone who she referred to as M.

Melissa’s name started with M.

Granted, Lindsay had referred to
her
M in male pronouns, but that could have been a cover-up, meant to throw anyone who found her journal off track.

Chances were interviewing Melissa wouldn’t amount to a hill of beans. In fact, he hoped that was the case. So while he waited for the owner of Amber House to call him back, he’d interview Melissa first. And if doing so meant she’d be cleared faster so that Natalie could stop worrying about her, that was just happenstance. But still a happenstance he’d be thankful for.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

D
ESPITE
HER
INITIAL
DISCOMFORT
with Liz’s presence in her home, Natalie spent the day getting to know the other woman and found herself having a pretty good time. They played cards, talked about old movies, and worked in her kitchen together making tuna sandwiches. It had been so long since she’d experienced such steady female companionship that Natalie almost forgot Liz was a cop assigned to protect her, rather than a new friend she’d invited over for lunch. But then Liz got a call from work and had to excuse herself to another part of the house. For the next few hours, Natalie tackled a few household tasks she’d been putting off.

When late afternoon approached and Mac still hadn’t shown up, Natalie tried to muster some pride for having run him off—her attempts had obviously worked. Pride wasn’t anywhere close to what she was feeling. All she seemed to be able to do was envision herself alone as the years passed, never again feeling that mindless heat that had suffused her the moment her lips had met Mac’s. It left a hollow feeling in her stomach, one she became desperate to fill.

To distract herself, she took another stab at the farmers’ market photos. Again, she couldn’t even identify what was in most of the photos, let alone whether there was something weird or incriminating about them. She’d hoped the more she looked at them, the greater the chance they’d jar her memory, like retracing one’s steps often did, but—

Wait a minute. Retracing her steps. She hadn’t even thought about that possibility until now. Yet the area where the city held its farmers’ market was less than ten miles from her house. Granted, it wasn’t like the farmers’ market was running today, but if she walked the park’s paths, maybe her brain would subconsciously fill in missing details. It was worth a try, wasn’t it?

Only she needed a way to get there, and she wasn’t about to call a cab.

Liz.

She walked to the dining area where Liz had last been. “Liz?”

“I’m right here, Natalie.”

“I was wondering if you could drive me somewhere. I’d like to get out of the house for a while.”

“Um, well… I don’t know, Natalie. I’ll have to check with Mac.”

Even though the poor woman didn’t deserve her annoyance, Natalie felt herself frowning. “Why? I’m not allowed to go anywhere unless you have his permission? He told me he wasn’t keeping me prisoner, but maybe I misunderstood.”

“You know I’m just trying to do my job, Natalie. So let me call Mac.”

She blew out a breath at Liz’s calm-as-ever, slightly chiding tone. “Fine. Call him.”

She waited and listened as Liz did just that. “Hello, Agent McKenzie. It’s Officer Lafayette. Natalie just asked if I could take her outside for a bit to get some air and I just wanted to make sure… Well, she didn’t say, exactly— Yes, sir. Natalie, where is it you want to go?”

She gritted her teeth. Reminded herself that Mac was trying to keep her safe.
Trying to do his job.
“Tell him I want to go to a park and bring my camera with me, if that’s okay with him.”

“Uh, she says she wants to go to a park and bring her camera with her. If that’s okay with you.”

Tapping her foot, Natalie strained to hear Mac’s words on the other line but could only make out a faint rumble. Even that sounded sexy. Damn him.

“Thank you. He said yes. I’m ready to leave when you are.”

They took Liz’s patrol car since Natalie had already disposed of her own vehicle. Less than ten minutes later, Liz announced they’d arrived.

* * *

E
VEN
THOUGH
IT
WASN
’
T
DARK
yet, Alex shone the lights of his car on the northeast side of the church and watched the play of light against the pale pink wall. When he’d first seen the massive pink building with its cheery white trim, he’d thought there’d been some kind of mistake. It looked nothing like a place of worship was supposed to look. And when he’d finally gotten the nerve to go inside, he’d discovered it wasn’t like any other church he’d visited or heard about.

It was far better.

He gripped the steering wheel, alternately slapping and fiddling with it, as he stared out the windshield.

He was becoming desperate.

He needed guidance.

The urge to sin, to kill Natalie Jones despite the signs indicating he shouldn’t, was overtaking him. But wasn’t that a sign in and of itself? Hadn’t the holy spirit guided him here? Wasn’t the holy spirit guiding him now?

His gaze strayed to the car’s glove compartment. Slowly, he leaned over and popped it open. With shaking hands, he pulled out the familiar gun. He traced the trigger as if mesmerized. It was loaded. Just in case.

Like the syringe he kept in the glove compartment was also loaded.

Just in case.

Both items represented his old way of life, and each time he turned away from them, he’d felt himself growing stronger. More confident that he’d changed. That he was on the right path.

Only now…

Now he wondered if the gun and maybe the syringe, too, were meant to
keep him
on that path.

He raised the gun and examined it in the slight glow created by the headlights. It felt heavy. Solid. A natural extension of his hand.

Killing Natalie Jones would solve so many problems.

Help Alex. Help Him.

And if he killed for God, perhaps he could do other things, as well. Things he’d done in his previous life. Things that hadn’t served a purpose because
he’d
served no purpose. Now that he was a servant of God, perhaps he was entitled to enjoy it all.

Drinking. Smoking. Fucking.

Killing.

All without fear of repercussion.

But wait, nothing was without repercussion.

God was the ultimate judge, and Alex had given all that up for a reason.

For Him. For a family who wasn’t here.

His knees moved agitatedly up and down while he moaned and dropped his head in his hands. No, no, no. Those thoughts weren’t good. Weren’t right. The devil was in the car with him, working his way into his mind.

He had to be strong and resist.

He’d chosen the right path. Still had faith. But beyond that, he no longer knew what to do. Which voice in his head to trust. That’s why he’d come to the church. To pray. To talk to Him. But He’d abandoned him. He hadn’t granted his pleas for answers.

Dropping his hands, he chewed on his thumb and glanced at the open glove compartment. The baggie with the syringe and other supplies was hidden behind papers, but he knew they were there. Maybe—maybe if he could quiet the voices for just a little while, things would go back to the way they were. He’d stop questioning. Be certain again. Drugs had quieted the monsters in the past. Had rocked him in a hazy, surreal embrace, making him feel safe. Invincible.

The drug could make him feel that way again.

But no, that would be wrong.

Wouldn’t it?

Would it?

He pounded the steering wheel with his fists now, his breaths sounding like sobs. He’d done everything He’d told him to do. He’d come here for help. And He wasn’t here.

Him. God. Clemmons. Reverend Morrison. They were all the same in his mind. He owed his loyalty to them all.

What to do? What to do?

Silence the voices. That was it.

Still gripping the gun with one hand, he reached into the open glove compartment with the other.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“O
KAY
,
WE
’
RE
HERE
,” Liz said.

Natalie opened her car door and stepped out, breathing in the fresh air and hearing the rustling of the breeze through the trees and bushes that covered the park grounds. She heard the other woman round the car and stop beside her. “Would you like to take my arm? If we link elbows, you can hold your camera and take pictures as you feel like it.”

Natalie hadn’t
really
been planning on taking pictures. She’d simply said that as an excuse. She hadn’t wanted to tell Mac her true motives in case her field trip didn’t pan out; no sense getting anyone’s hopes up. But now that Liz had made the offer, she supposed it made sense. It’d be nice not to have to rely on her cane for a while. To walk and still have use of both hands.

“That would be…nice. Thank you.”

“Here you go.” Liz guided Natalie’s arm through hers. “Anyplace in particular?”

The other woman was so matter-of-fact, any awkwardness Natalie was feeling quickly dissipated. “The gazebo at the north side.” That’s where she’d parked her car and started taking pictures. As they walked side by side, Liz effortlessly kept pace with her, guiding her past obstacles but only after giving her fair warning first. Natalie was surprised how fluidly they moved together. “Do you have a blind relative I don’t know about?” she joked.

“Actually, yes. My mother is blind.”

She stumbled at that, then quickly righted herself. “I’m sorry. I mean, I’m sorry I said that. How—?”

“She was born blind.”

“And—is she okay?”

“Sure. She’s great. Six kids and the love of my dad’s life. She’s competing in a judo competition next month. Took it up about a year ago and likes to brag that she can flip anyone anytime. I haven’t challenged her on that. I learned a long time ago my mom never makes idle threats.”

“Judo?” Natalie had heard that judo was a sport adaptable to the blind, but she’d figured that meant competitive athletes, with training in other martial arts, not the average woman with no previous training at all. The average woman was more like her own mother. Weaker. Wasn’t she?

“Yes. If you’re ever interested in talking to her about it, let me know.”

“I—I will. Thank you.”

“Here we are.”

She knew they’d reached their destination even before Liz spoke. She could smell the roses that surrounded the gazebo, their sweet scent so powerful she could’ve sworn they were standing in the midst of them rather than on the concrete sidewalk. She pictured the rainbow the flowers had made when she’d last seen them—a frothy explosion of white and pink, peach and red, plum and orange mingled with dark, glossy green. A chaotic mass of colors that nonetheless always appeared deliberate and was always breathtaking.

She’d taken several shots of the roses, the adjacent gazebo, and… What was it? Oh yes, a magician! She’d remembered that in the hospital. A close-up of a magician doing card tricks in between making balloon animals for the kids. And then she’d taken the path to the east.

“Let’s walk east. Toward the grove of redwood trees. Do you see it?”

“I sure do. Did you want to take a picture first?”

“Oh, right. Yes.” She raised her camera, looked through the lens and sucked in her breath. Just as had been the case with Melissa, she saw blurry gray shadows, but somehow she managed to see the shape of individual roses, too. She knew it was partly memory and partly her mind playing tricks on her, but she didn’t care. She took the picture, and when she lowered her camera, she was smiling.

“Let’s go.”

They walked and chatted, with Natalie occasionally stopping to take a photo while she tried to remember what she’d seen, heard, smelled, felt or tasted just two months ago. Soon, however, without her being aware of it, she stopped trying to remember and simply found herself enjoying the walk.

“Right there. There should be a bench under a big oak tree. Do you see it?”

“Yes.”

“Let me sit there for a minute. It gives a great view of the playground on one side and the fountain on another. I remember when—”

A ringing interrupted her. “Sorry,” Liz said. “That’s my phone. Let me get you settled on the bench and then I’ll take this call.”

“Right.”

As soon as Natalie was sitting, Liz answered her phone. “Officer Liz Lafayette. Yes, Captain, I’m with her right now. The Turner case? I already talked to the mother, sir. Yes, I told her…”

As Liz spoke, Natalie closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun. It was a mild day, with a light breeze, but even the tepid heat on her face, combined with the airy smells around her, filled her with a rare contentment. She hadn’t remembered anything helpful, but at least her mind hadn’t replayed those moments of terror when she’d lost her vision. It was so peaceful now, but almost too quiet. She wondered how she’d feel if she was sitting in the midst of a crowd. Safe on her bench but close enough to hear dogs barking, kids playing, old Pete shouting at a couple as they walked by—

Natalie’s eyes popped open. Old Pete!

He’d been shouting that day. And he’d been shouting at a man and a woman before the police had run him off. A woman with spiky dark hair and a man with neatly trimmed gray hair. She remembered thinking they were a couple by the way they interacted, but the contrast in their hair color and height had made them seem more like father and daughter than lovers. And there was something about the way the woman had been standing. Something that had distracted her…

She was sure of it. That part of her memory clear.

But what had Pete been shouting? Something weird that had diverted her attention from the unusual-looking couple. Something about being blind? A hypocrite? Granted, Pete had spouted out a lot of nonsense at times, but he was capable of rational thought, too. What if he’d actually known the man and woman? What if the dark-haired female was Lindsay, the same dark-haired girl Mac had identified in her photos?

Someone sat down next to her on the bench, and she turned, squinting at the shadow. “Liz? I was just remembering something. Nothing big, but something that might still help Mac.”

“Mac?”

The voice wasn’t Liz’s, and it definitely wasn’t a woman’s. Her terror was immediate. “Wh-who are you?”

“Who are
you
?” the man answered, her panic causing her to ignore the teasing quality to his tone. She sensed movement just before she felt his hand on her face.

She moved instinctively, screaming and grabbing at his hand as he touched her hair. She latched on to his fingers and bent them backward. At the same time, she heard Liz shout, “Hey, what are you doing? Get away from her!”

The man screamed and tried to pull away, but she just hung on tighter. At the same time, she stood and tried to kick him. She was too close, however, to do any damage. “Stay away from me,” she yelled. “Stay away!”

“Natalie, I’m right here. Let go of him. Now!”

At Liz’s voice, Natalie instantly released the man’s hand and backed away.

“Crazy bitch! What the fuck is going on?”

“What the hell did you do to her?” Liz demanded.

“Nothing! I just sat down next to her. The wind was in her face, and I nudged it out of her eyes.”

“She’s blind! She doesn’t care if her hair is in her eyes.”

“Blind? Shit, I didn’t know. She looks normal,” he mumbled.

“Get out of here. Now.”

She heard the man walk away, muttering under his breath. Again, she caught the word crazy.

Crazy. Not normal. For a minute, she’d forgotten that’s how people viewed her.

She didn’t move. She stood rigidly, exactly where she’d been standing while Liz questioned the poor man who’d made the mistake of sitting next to her.

“I’m sorry, Natalie. I was only about twenty feet away. I started walking while I was talking, and when I turned around, he was sitting next to you. I came as soon as I saw him, but it was too late. I’m sorry.”

“It— It’s fine, Liz. Really. Can we go now?”

“But don’t you want to keep walking? Take more pictures?”

“Actually, no. I’m really tired. I’d just like to go home.”

* * *

M
ELISSA
C
ALLAHAN
WAS
PRETTY
. With light brown hair, albeit with a streak dyed blue at the front, she even resembled Natalie to a degree. They were about the same height and complexion, but that’s where any similarities ended. Melissa was sweet, slightly naive and fairly gullible—Mac doubted Natalie had ever been any of those things, even when she was a child.

After confirming Melissa had been with her boyfriend at the time Natalie had climbed into that cab with a killer, he’d quickly realized she was exactly what Natalie had claimed she was—a good friend, a flaky one, but not one who’d left her friend out to dry so a murderer could take her. It was apparent from talking to her that she cared for Natalie and that she felt horrible about what had happened. In fact, it was probably her guilt that had her revealing so much unsolicited information about Natalie’s personal life during their conversation.

It wasn’t something that Mac had been inclined to stop. Even as he’d known Natalie would be horrified by her friend’s candidness, Mac had encouraged it, playing on her fears that a killer was after Natalie and might somehow get to her unless Mac knew everything there was to know. What had surprised him in spite of his resolve was that he’d actually felt guilty about it, when normally he wouldn’t have given it another thought.

He was just doing his job. Knowing everything possible about Natalie was necessary, especially given her unique vulnerability and foolish pride, in order to protect her. Still, there was also a personal part of him that took satisfaction in getting to know the
woman
better, not the witness, even if it was through the eyes of her friend.

Melissa told him about who Natalie had been before she’d lost her vision. Her genuine love for traveling and adventure that had bordered on desperate at times. About Duncan, “the selfish prick” who’d run out on her. About how different she was now, in part because of her adaptive coach and her therapist, who’d both told her that isolating herself was Natalie’s best recourse for adjustment. Of course, Melissa had also told him how little she thought of that line of thinking, and Mac couldn’t help but agree with her.

Some healing time, sure. Of course that was necessary. But Natalie had had half her life to adjust to the idea that she might go blind someday. Then she’d had months to deal with the actual fact. Given who she was, given everything she’d done in her life, hiding out had to be more harmful to her than helpful. She was one of those women who thrived on sensation and challenges. If she hadn’t been an artist, Mac could easily have seen her going into something like law enforcement and blowing all of his team to hell with her sheer guts and intelligence. Mac was amazed she couldn’t see that herself.

“So is either the adaptive coach or the therapist blind?” Mac asked.

“No.”

In and of itself, that didn’t mean anything, but it still left him wondering. “Since losing her sight, has she even talked to someone who’s blind? That you know of?”

“Not that I know of. And—” Melissa hesitated.

“What is it?”

“I get the impression that she doesn’t really want to. I wanted her to take some Braille classes, at a local school for the blind, but she rejected the idea so quickly. I don’t think it was simply not wanting to leave her house. As far as I know, she’s never met a blind person other than her mother.”

Her mother. Mac chewed on that for a second. “That’s right. She said her disease was genetic. So her mother was blind?”

“
Is
blind.”

She said it so softly that Mac barely heard her. But he did. “She’s alive?”

For the first time, even with everything that she’d already told him, Melissa looked guilty. And reluctant to say more. “Never mind.”

He shot her a chiding look. “Too late to stop now, Melissa. So her mother’s blind. So what? Do they have an estranged relationship?” And did it have anything to do with how Natalie reacted when he’d threatened to tell doctors she was too incompetent to make her own decisions about treatment?

“That’s Natalie’s business. I’ve said enough because I want to help you protect her. But her mother has nothing to do with any of this.”

Melissa’s vehemence only made Mac want to push more. “How can you be so sure?”

She didn’t respond, but she didn’t have to.

So, yes, they were estranged. Estranged enough that Natalie wouldn’t seek support from the one person who would know exactly what she was going through.

As Mac left, Melissa asked, “So I can go by and see Natalie tomorrow?”

“That’s up to her. But you won’t get any objections from me. Not right now, anyway.”

“I know I screwed up. She deserves to have someone she can count on, whether she knows it or not, and she finally decided to give me the chance. I blew it. It’s just my boyfriend and I are having problems and—” Briefly, she closed her eyes and shook her head. “Never mind. No excuses. I just hope she gives me another chance. She’s never been the type to trust easily, you know. When she lets someone close to Natalie, it’s rare and it’s a privilege.”

Frowning as he left, he wondered if Melissa had been trying to tell him something. Did Melissa know about the kiss they’d shared? Had he taken something rare and special, the privilege of being close to Natalie, and squandered it?

While it might not be relevant to the case, he was going to have to satisfy his curiosity about Natalie’s mother. First, however…he called Jase on his cell. “Your sister’s friend. The one that’s blind. Where does she live?”